Till We Meet Again
by Tatsumaki-sama
Summary: By unlucky circumstances, twins Alfred and Matthew were separated during their time in the concentration camps.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of its characters.

**Till We Meet Again**

He wasn't sure what time it was anymore.

He had been here so long that time no longer had any meaning on him.

It was frightfully quiet here. In the room. In the hallways. In the whole building. There was nothing. No animal to stir up a racket. No guards to bark orders and their heavy steps echoing down the hallways.

Not even the abandoned residents made a sound. Not anymore, at least.

For the first few days they had been abandoned, the residents certainly made a lot of noise and racket. He made a lot of them himself.

There had been screams, yells, cries and sobs, mingling together in perfect harmony. Occasionally there would be a banging of tiny fists against the metal doors that stood between them and freedom. Sometimes, if he focused hard enough, he could hear the shuffling and movement of objects in other rooms down the hall, crashing, ramming and being thrown against the doors.

But he knew those things wouldn't be able to break open the doors. He had already tried it and in his state - which was starved and dehydrated and feverish, like the other residents - the door merely had a few scattered dents. He even tried to claw at the door, digging scratched, dirtied nails at the keyhole to try to get it to open to no avail.

Out of frustration, he heaved a nearby bed as high as he could (unfortunately for him, which wasn't very high off the ground) and flung it towards the window in desperation. The stubborn steel bars that sealed his fate were not even affected. They seemed content to mock and taunt him as he gazed emptily at the cracked glass he had caused by his fists but wasn't able to escape through them.

Days had crawled by slowly and all his energy by now had been spent and wasted. All was silent and he couldn't even hear the screams in his own head. That was how quiet it was.

To his surprise, there were no sounds today, on this – morning? Afternoon? Midday? Anyways, on this day, he didn't hear anything. Which was odd. Normally, there would be at least one sound of movement, one shout of desperation, one attempt to bring down the door, one sob of anguish. Maybe two at the same time. But not today.

It was quiet. Silent. Dead.

Perhaps the rest of the residents were like him, exhausted physically, psychologically and mentally, worn down until there was nothing left inside of them to hold them up.

He closed his eyes, resting his head against the last pillow he had. The rest he had ripped and tore in his anger. He buried himself within it, trying to ignore the painful stabs of his stomach. The rest of his body ached and moaned from the strenuous torture it had endured through.

For every day since he had arrived here, he had ripped a piece of toilet paper, rolled it gingerly in his shaking fingertips and shoved it under his pillow from the guards. Then, every night he would count them, slowly and tenaciously, to assure that time still existed in his mind. Last night, he had tallied up thirty-six rolls of toilet paper.

It was more than a month he had came to this hellhole.

Part of him wanted to scream. To simply cave in his madness and his despair. He feverishly eyed the steel bars at the window and wondered if he shoved his thin frame hard enough he could fit through it.

Before he could carry out of his delirious plans, his hand brushed across something soft and very real.

A stuffed bear gazed blankly back at him, its dark eyes seemingly glowing in concern. With a muffled sob, all he could do was seize the bear and crush it to his chest, hoping it alone would smoulder his madness.

This stuffed animal. It might be the only thing he had to save him from the insanity. The funny thing was that this bear, this childish, pure creature stitched of white fur and black button eyes, did not belong to him. He had long out-grown such frivolous, trivial toys.

This bear had once belonged to his brother.

His twin brother.

Matthew.

He inhaled deeply, breathing into the bear's soft fur. He could still smell his brother's scent, even after all this time. And it comforted him, woke him from the nightmares and kept him sane enough to realize that he was still alive and he would not rest until he was reunited with his brother again.

Shy, friendly Matthew. Innocent and carefree. So optimistic. Even when they were in this nightmarish prison, his brother continued on with the hope that they would escape and return home.

He would hold his hand when he was suffering from fever, telling him stories, reminding him of home, their mother's freshly made pancakes and chocolate milk set on the table and their father returning from the war, arms wide open, welcoming them.

It was a nice dream. But that was all that it was.

A dream.

Nothing more.

Nothing but an illusion and a fantasy. A brief escape from reality.

Only for him to open his eyes and come crashing back down. And he would still be here and his brother would still be lost.

They came for Matthew days ago. He tried to stop them and Matthew tried to resist. But by then, both of them were weakened and lacked the strength to fight back. And the guards took advantage of that little fact.

The last thing he saw before the guard's gun collided with his head was Matthew being dragged out of the room, still trying to reach him, calling his name desperately. And he let his brother down.

Long ago, his father took him aside and explained to them that despite he and Matthew were twins, he was in fact older than Matthew by fifteen minutes. And because of that, he was the older brother and it was an older brother's job to protect the little ones that come after him. A job that he eagerly embraced.

But one that he had failed.

Minutes must have gone by. Perhaps even hours. But something stirred outside, making him jolt awake from his hazy dreams.

It was a low rumble. Akin to a truck's engine. Too weak to drag himself to the window to see, he strained his ears and listened. By now, it had halted and replacing its sound was the voices of people. They spoke in hushed, wary voices, spreading out, mingling here and there, though he couldn't make out what they were saying or what language they spoke.

Frozen in anticipation, his heart coming alive for the first time in days in his chest, he pushed himself up on the bed, still clutching the stuffed bear as if it were a lifesaver. The rest of the residents also awakened from their locked rooms, moving sluggishly. There were some whispers and hurried hushes and hisses to be quiet.

They didn't know whether it was the guards returning. They didn't know whether they were allies or enemies. Better to be cautious and silent than be foolish and boisterous.

Still, many of them were pressing their ears against the hard, cold metal, trying to hear, wondering if at least the ones coming in brought some food.

There was a thunderous crash that made some shriek and others scattering from the doors. Then, a heavy silence befell upon them once again, as heavy footsteps echoed dimly somewhere down the hallway. This time, when these intruders spoke, to his wildest delight, he was able to understand it. After all this time, he could still understand his mother tongue of English.

" Damn. What is this place?"

" A scout reported it ..."

" Looks abandoned though ..."

Then, there was a shout, breaking the silence.

" There's – there's children in here!"

All at once, the tranquillity was destroyed with these intruders running, shouting and making more noise as they clambered about. Even from where he was, he could hear the harsh metal screech as it tumbled down and the intruders were shouting even more.

" Someone get a doctor here now!"

" If you can hear me, step away from the door. We're going to break down the door, okay? _Es ist alles gut_ - "

" - amn it, this one's already dead - "

" Blankets! Get -"

" It's all right now. I got you. I got you now. It's ..."

Their voices and the consuming racket dimmed in his ears and he sat dumbly on the bed, simply waiting, not bothering to move from his spot or yell like a lunatic. He was just so tired ...

Someone appeared at the grimy window of the door, frantically wiping against the filthy glass and their mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He simply stared back at the shadowed figure trying to tell him something.

A minute later, the door came crashing down like many others before it.

There was a man standing before the door, holding a battering ram in his hands. He was dressed in a soldier's outfit, like the guards, but with a more lighter feel. His darker blond hair was a mark contrast compared to the guard's white blond hair and his green eyes gleamed of fraught worry rather than solemn malice.

The first thing the man did was swear violently at the sight of him. " Lad, can you hear me?" he asked frantically, approaching him cautiously yet hurriedly.

He spoke in a funny accent, low and urgent. " Can you speak? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

How long had it been since he had last talked? From what he could remember, it was when he had last saw Matthew. He tried to speak, a hoarse gurgle from the depths of his dry throat.

With a smile, he placed a hand on his bony shoulder, careful not to squeeze too tightly lest he might break the boy's arm. " It's all right, lad. I'm going to take care of you now."

The soldier lifted him from the bed and all at once, he never felt lighter in his life. It was as if he were flying. In his delirium, he didn't notice how the soldier grimaced at how frightfully thin and meager he was.

" Can you tell me your name?" the soldier asked him kindly. " I would hate to call you "lad" all the time. And you can call me Arthur, if you like."

When he couldn't answer properly, the soldier continued talking, his voice chattering away in the distant corners of his mind.

It was happening so fast. This rescue he had often dreamed about was not what he had imagined. His head floated and he felt terribly dizzy from being moved too quickly from the feral position he had taken up for days. The stuffed bear nestled closely to his chest, reminding him of the only thing that occupied his mind.

He tried to tell the soldier, feebly gripping at his sleeve, that they had to hurry. Because if they did, they could still catch up to Matthew, where the guards and the Doctor had taken him away on that fateful night. It was still early. There was still time. These soldiers were fast and adept trackers. If anyone could find his brother, it would be these men.

" M-m-m-m ..." he choked out.

The man in midst of climbing down the stairs started and blinked at him in surprise. " Did you say something?"

" M-m-m-m ..."

" Mmm? What's that? What are you trying to tell me?"

He tried to get his tongue to work, but it was thick and sore after days without water. " M-m-m-Matt ... M-m-Matt ..."

" Matt? Who is that?"

The soldier didn't understand. He croaked out again, his vision going dark, voice growing faint.

" Matt ..."

" Hey, lad. Stay with me. Hey! Damn it! Where's the doctor? This kid needs - "

He didn't hear the rest of the soldier's sentence. He was already sinking further and further down in the blissfully cold darkness.

~.~.~

** Author's Notes:**

_Es ist alles gut _(German) - It's all right

I know that it was the Soviet troops that liberated the Auschwitz concentration camps, not the British. But the sake of drama, it doesn't hurt to say that Arthur was helping out Ivan. ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of its characters.

* * *

Like many other children, Alfred had an instinctive insight when bad things happened.

He had experienced it most compellingly when that strange man had came to visit his mother during the middle of the night.

The sky was all dark and he could hear the soft chirps of crickets outside when he had gone to the washroom. He was about to return to his room when he heard the front door creak open and his mother saying something to someone.

Curiosity overtook him and Alfred crept to the hallway door, peering through the slightest opening.

A man stood by the door, wearing the same kind of uniform that their father had worn before he had to leave. Unlike their father, who looked quite comfortable in his uniform, this man looked awkwardly stiff, shifting restlessly, his hat twisting and turning in his hands.

He couldn't see his mother's face because her back was facing him. But he could see that her hands were clenched tightly at her side, nails digging into her palms. She was speaking too low for him to hear, but he was surprised to detect a tremble in her normally calm voice.

For some reason, her shoulders shook and the man was the one speaking now, placing a gentle hand on her arms. His face gleamed of concern and he gingerly helped her to the kitchen, where Alfred wasn't able to see them anymore.

He never told anyone of this incident. Not even Matthew. The next morning he chose to casually ask when their father was coming back, trying to figure out what happened last night. Their mother froze and her fingers clenched over the jug of milk. But when she looked at him, she was smiling and her voice was pleasant.

" Your father will be home soon," she replied. And that would be all she would ever say to the matter concerning their father.

But as the weeks passed by with haunted whispers and the adults grew more fretful and worried. Every morning and every night, their mother would scan through the newspapers, her brow furrowing and her lips pursing in faint lines of dread. They always asked what she was reading but she would rarely tell. Sometimes when Matthew purposely distracted her, Alfred would go and snatch the newspapers from the waste basket.

Most of the words he didn't understand, but from what he gathered, there seemed to be some sort of fight going on with certain places. Like Britain, the place where his father had came from, and France, where they were living now. They were against Germany, who according to his disgruntled father and grumbling mother, were dangerous folk that he and Matthew should stay far away from because they caused nothing but trouble and grief in the past.

On this particular morning, sounds of gunshots and shouts echoed and clashed not too far from the border with Germany. People crowded in the streets, trying to catch a glimpse of the smoke, which was close to their town. Alfred wanted to go down there for a better view and whatever he did, Matthew was sure to follow. But their mother strictly forbid both of them.

Within the next few weeks, Germany soldiers were marching through the streets, placing a strange red flag with a black spider in the middle of it all over the town. Alfred overheard his mother speaking hurriedly to one of the neighbours, mentioning something about soldiers fleeing to Dunkirk and them being abandoned.

" What's going to happen to us?" Matthew asked in a quiet voice when their mother came back, locking the door quickly as she did.

She didn't say anything, but they could tell she was chewing her lip in helpless dismay.

~.~.~

The next three years passed with many changes to France. According to their mother, they had new people running the country and they had to obey them no matter what.

On top of that, German soldiers came to inspect every family and every person, checking their background and other little menial details. Those that didn't fit their criteria (whatever that was, nobody explained it to Alfred) were taken away and never seen again.

But for most part, those that did fit the criteria, like them, were left to their own devices. If they did not disturb the peace, they would be left alone. Simple as that.

Of course, there were those who rebelled against this new government and fought for the freedom of the people. Those that did were quickly put down and silenced. Most citizens tended to avoid them, some even openly criticizing those people for disrupting the relatively amicable peace.

But everyone, including the government, knew that the rebellious Free French were growing stronger and their forces growing. And the police relentlessly searched to find these so-called traitors still secretly living in the cities and disposing of them with any information they had in their hands.

Alfred, now age eight, often wondered where his mother went late at night and sometimes for a few days, leaving him and Matthew with the neighbours. She refused to say where and continually told them to not say nothing about it, lest someone would hear. And so, they stopped asking questions out of fear that if they did, their mother would be taken away.

One day, a few strange men came to the door and asked them to come with them. They casually mentioned something about their mother's "activities" with a sickening pleasure. Almost at once, their mother's face was pale as paper and she trembled when she gathered Alfred and Matthew and hurried them out of the door without even a chance to pack.

They soon found themselves in a warehouse outside of their town, shivering in line, since they didn't have time to grab their jackets, as autumn was beginning to end and winter was getting ready to come. Matthew clutched his white stuffed animal bear that he christened Kumajirou, which was a gift from their parents since Matthew was a baby, tightly to his chest, as one guard dragged a screaming woman away from the front of the line. Their mother hastily covered their eyes but her screams were still heard.

In almost desperation, Alfred gripped the cold metal chain and tag underneath his shirt. The mysterious stranger from that time had handed a letter and the tag to his mother before he left. To which almost immediately she burned the letter and threw away the chain and tag in thinly veiled disgust. She didn't know that Alfred had dug through the trash later to retrieve it. Matthew had a suspicion that he always wore it around his chain, no matter how it sometimes inched and poked his neck, though he kept quiet about it. For some reason, holding this tag that had his father's name engraved on it and possibly once belonged to his father comforted him and gave him strength.

One of the guards leered at them, particularly their mother, as they passed by. He said something to her who didn't reply. Only her grip on their hands tightened.

Their mother was known as the town's beauty. It was a great deal of envy and disappointment that a young British man was the one to sweep her off her feet. And it made Alfred angry that some other man was acting in such an ungentlemanly way towards his mother.

She brought them close to her. " Keep walking and look ahead," she whispered, eyes focused forward. " Pretend that I'm not talking to you."

Alfred nodded, while Matthew simply looked confused at her orders but obeyed nevertheless. He glanced at his brother for clarification and Alfred shrugged.

She took a deep breath. " Remember, both of you, whatever may happen, stay together. Al, I want you to promise me that you will look after your brother. And Matt, I want you to promise me that you will listen to your brother."

Neither of them understood why their mother was saying this. Their mother had told them many times before. When they started school. When they moved houses the first time. When Matthew got picked on by bullies at school. Even their father told them, as he stood at the doorway before he left, patted their heads and repeated them the exact same thing as their mother was telling them now.

" Mama?" Matthew hesitantly asked.

Alfred was more straightforward. " Why are you telling us this?" he demanded to know. " We already know all this."

" Just listen," she interrupted, rather harshly. Her eyes darted nervously at the front of the line, which they were fearfully getting closer to. Her voice dropped into a whisper, more hurried and jumbled. " Look after each other and remember everything that your father and I have taught you. You are both smart and you can make it, even if I might not ..."

Her voice hitched and Matthew fidgeted worriedly in her grip. " Mama?" he asked again.

With a gasp, their mother stopped herself as they had reached the front of the line, where a balding man sat at a table, glossy shoes stretched on top of it. In his mouth was a thick cigar, which caused a slight haze around his head as he puffed out an onslaught of smoke directly at their faces. Behind him were two corridors, both leading into the forbidden darkness and the unknown.

Terror robbed Alfred of speech and Matthew was shaking in unspoken fear. Their mother was pressing her lips together, her grip on their hands tightening considerably.

Yawning, the bald man rolled on his thick neck, squinting at them. At the sight of their mother, his eyes widened and a greasy smile draped across his face.

" Why hello there, sweetheart," he said, his voice a leery purr, purposely speaking in French. " Why are all the pretty girls always the troublesome ones," he sighed longingly to himself. " And twins too!" he exclaimed, as if suddenly seeing them, leaning forward, interested. " Aren't they so cute? Makes me want to take them home with me."

The greedy look on his face suggested that he would carry out his words. Alfred scowled at the man. He didn't like the way he was looking at his mother. His eyes weren't kind and warm like his father's. Rather, those eyes were cruel and beady. " Please leave them out of this," their mother quietly said.

" But I'm simply doing my job, _mademoiselle_," he drawled. " And I'll admit that _twins_ are something my boss specializes in."

She said nothing. Matthew trembled and Alfred could feel the sweat pooling in his palms at the mere mention that twins were wanted by some madman. How powerful that man must feel, that their lives are cradled delicately in his hands.

" However." The bald man smoothly dragged out the word. " I could make an exception for you if you'll be my wife," he cheekily said.

The guards snickered. Their mother's mouth was so thin of a line that Alfred couldn't see it. When she finally spoke, her voice was low.

" If I go with you, will you let my children go?" she quietly asked.

" Mum!" Alfred yelled, shattering the silence. " You can't be serious!"

" Be quiet, Alfred," she calmly told him, as if they were talking about the weather. Matthew opened his mouth to also complain but a glare from her made him snap his mouth with a muffled whimper.

The bald man stroked his thick moustache, eyeing her, flickering briefly at Matthew and Alfred. " Let your children go?" he repeated. He hummed thoughtfully, purposely dawdling his considerations, torturing them with his final decision. Finally, he leaned forward. " Fine. My men will – ahem, escort them out."

The breath that their mother had been holding this whole time was released. " Thank you, kind sir," she bowed low towards him.

An oily smile adopted over his obese features. " You'll be calling me that for the rest of your life, darling," he smirked.

At last, Alfred couldn't contain his anger any longer. " Mum, why are you doing this?" he half-shouted, half-pleaded. " Don't you want us anymore?"

" Of course, I do," she softly said. She knelt down and embraced both of them. They immediately buried themselves into her warmth and comfort. Just as they had done many times before. " But this is the only way. And after this is all over, I'll find you again. Do you understand?"

Matthew began to cry and Alfred fought not to. " Mum ..." he began.

" Matthew and Alfred." She gazed deeply into their eyes. They never realized that her eyes was swimming with tears also. " You both are your father's pride and my joy. I couldn't possibly be anymore prouder of - "

The bald man grunted, interrupting her. " Come on. We don't have all day." He jerked his thumb towards two guards standing off to the side. " They'll be bringing your kids out, while you'll be coming with me." His grin widened.

She gave them each a quick kiss on the forehead. " _Je t'aime_," she whispered, before letting them go.

" _Moi aussi, je t'aime_," they tearfully replied.

Slowly and unwillingly, Alfred and Matthew were separated from their mother, trailing towards the guards, their watery eyes never leaving her.

But something was wrong. Alfred only realized it after the guards began directing them towards one of the corridors instead of the other way out. A cold shiver ran through his spine and the briefest of knowing smirks from the guards only confirmed his fears.

Matthew reacted first. " Mama!" he screamed, trying to run back to her, only to be stopped by the guards.

" Let go of him!" Alfred snarled, pounding his tiny fists uselessly against them, before he too was grabbed from behind and a hand clamped over his mouth.

" What are you doing?" their mother gasped, rushing at the bald man, only to be held back by the soldiers. " You promised that they will go free!"

The bald man looked mildly amused. " I'm keeping my promise. So they shall be going, my dear. Going to Auschwitz." He cupped her chin, smiling cheerfully at her horrified expression. " Twins are such a rarity that we can't afford to lose. But not to worry, my soon-to-be-wife. They will be treated quite - "

Then, their mother did something that they would have never thought she would do. With a feral snarl, she kicked the bald man in the groin. When he fell with an odd sort of shriek and the guards too stunned at the moment, their mother ran forward, trying to reach them.

" Alfred! Matthew!" she screamed out.

The second the shock had worn off, Matthew bit the gloved hand of the guard holding him, making him drop him, while Alfred dug his foot against the man's shin, making him holler. They fought off their captors, racing towards their mother, calling out her name.

Their fingers were just inches apart ...

Then came the ringing bang of a gun.

Even as he slapped a hand over his brother's eyes despite his protests, Alfred knew as well as Matthew did, that they both saw the falling body of a woman who was once known to them as mother, with wide surprised eyes and golden hair fluttering aimlessly in the air. She was dead before she hit the floor, a shiny, silver bullet squeezed right between her eyes and into her forehead.

Someone screamed. Then more people screamed. People began fighting and pushing to escape. The guards fired more rounds in the air and it only escalated in the chaos.

However, Matthew was too overwhelmed by his desperation to care.

" Mama! Mama!" he shrieked, tears steaming down his face, fighting blindly to get back to the broken body of their mother. " Let go of me, Alfred! We have to help her! We have to get to her!"

" Stop it, Matthew!" he hissed, looping an arm around his chest and yanking him away from the panicking crowd. " There's – there's nothing more we can do!"

A horrible feeling rose in Alfred's throat, making him want to throw up and suck in as much air as he could at the same time. Sweat plastered on his forehead, sticking to his skin, causing him to feel both hot and cold at the same time. In protest, his stomach rolled uncomfortably, digging and jabbing within.

Matthew's sobs were lost in the shouts of the guards and more gunshots being fired. They began herding the crowd back under control, hitting and striking with their guns. One guard barked at them and when they remained dumbly where they were, he snarled, seizing both of them by the back of their shirts, gathering them up in his thick, huge arms.

As they were roughly shuffled off, they passed by their mother's body. Alfred gritted his teeth, shielding Matthew's eyes from the scene once more. Two guards happened to be towing her lifeless body away and the bald man (despite limping and his snarling face scrunched up in pain) savagely delivered a kick to her lolling head, barking at the sheepish guards, as she disappeared down the unforgiving corridor.

Hatred rose in Alfred and he would love for nothing else than to strangle that bald man for desecrating his mother's body.

Then, it was replaced by the devastating grief that their mother was truly dead. They won't ever see her soft smile again, feel her gentle fingers stroke through their hair when they were sick or hear her sing a soothing lullaby during nighttime. She was gone and lost to them forever.

That's when the unbidden thought came to Alfred. That this was what happened to their father. That he was also gone. That was why that other man had came to talk to their mother, to tell her the news. And that was why that man had given the letter and tag to her, because it was an apology that something went wrong that they didn't expect and the tag had once belonged to their father's and now belonged to her. No wonder their mother had burned the letter and threw the tag away.

On that night, she had been crying because she knew their father was never coming back, despite her false hopes that he would.

And just like her, Alfred knew as well.

~.~.~

**Author's Notes:**

_Ma petite _(French) – My little one

_Je t'aime _(French) – I love you

_Moi aussi, je t'aime_ (French) – I love you too

The Battle of France happened May 10, 1940, where by June 14, Paris was overrun. Most of the British and French soldiers had fled to Dunkirk, where over 330, 000 Allied troops were able to evacuate.

After Germany took control of France, it became Vichy France. Often the French police organized raids to find Jews and other "undesirable" people. In opposition, the Free French rebelled and continued fighting against the Axis Powers, despite the mixed Allied reactions.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of its characters.

* * *

So lost in his numbed shock, Alfred barely had time to register that they were standing in front of a truck and being roughly shuffling them inside.

Two girls, one with braids and the other with pigtails, both looked at them at the same time, one with confusion and the other with distrust. Sitting across from them were two boys, a bit older than Alfred and Matthew. Only one of them glanced up and then grimly returned his gaze back to the floor of the truck.

To Alfred's surprise, they were both a pair of twins. Just like him and Matthew.

A man, presumably another guard, shouted something at the guard who had grabbed them. He hurriedly nudged them in, while replying in rapid German. Alfred, while not proficient in German, was able to understand snatches of their conversation.

" -_ only one_?"

" _Unfortunately ..._ _Doctor ... not happy ..._"

Eyes narrowing at the mention of this "Doctor", Alfred glanced at Matthew, who didn't appear to hear him. In the last few minutes, his brother had turned a frightful shade of white. He looked smaller than usual and he was gripping his stuffed bear so hard that he could see that his nails dug into the bear's fur.

Unable to offer any of his usual assurance, all Alfred could do was slip his hand into Matthew's and squeeze as tightly as he could. And once again, his free hand found its way to his father's tag and the cold metal brought him a sharp reminder that despite their mother being gone, they still had each other.

Not too long into the ride, Matthew threw up. Some of the twins shrieked and dived out of the way. The guards began yelling, at each other and at Matthew, whose embarrassment and shame made him cry.

With the guards ushering everyone out, Alfred dragged Matthew out before he could throw up again. Which Matthew did, dropping to the ground on all fours, heaving and coughing. Alfred simply stood away, one hand holding his stuffed bear, which thankfully wasn't dirtied at all.

He briefly contemplated running away with Matthew right now, while the guards were occupied with cleaning up the truck and after all the chaos that had happened. But out of the corner of his eye, two guards were watching them carefully, guns hoisted over their shoulders, ready to use if necessary. They wouldn't be able to run even a few feet away into the trees and bushes without being ruthlessly gunned down.

Instead, he knelt beside Matthew, who was now reduced to sniffing and hiccoughing. His face was swollen with tears and his eyes were puffy and red. " Just breath, Mattie," Alfred soothed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as Matthew gulped, his arms unsteady.

" Mama," he sobbed, rubbing his eyes with dirty fingers. " I want Mama."

A burning lump rose in Alfred's throat but he hastily swallowed it. " Mum can't be here right now," he softly said. " And she wouldn't want us to cry, right?"

His bottom lip trembled. " But – but Mama – Mama – "

" I'm not going to let anything happen to you," Alfred cut across, wrapping his arms around Matthew, just like their mother had done many times before. Matthew gripped his shirt as if it was the only thing holding him down from his threatening despair, burying his face into his shoulder. " And when have I lied to you?"

Matthew's eyes shined in wide admiration. " Never," he affirmed in all his naivety. If Alfred told him that the sky was actually orange, he would believed him in less than a heartbeat.

" I'll get us out of here," Alfred declared, with every inch of him determined to fulfil his promise to his mother and now to his brother. " So no more crying."

He brushed away the last traces of tears from Matthew's cheeks just as the guards started urging the twins back into the truck and they nudged them forward with the butts of their guns.

" No more crying," Matthew solemnly promised, as they climbed back into the truck, their chances of escape growing frightfully thin.

_~.~.~_

For many days, their little group travelled across Germany, a land and country that was unknown to them. If it had been any other trip, Alfred might have enjoyed the snowy landscape and the many cities that they passed by. They went from truck to train and as much as he hated to admit it, it was sort of fun. It was their first time leaving their home and town, travelling outside of the country.

Even Matthew, who kept his promise to extreme lengths and had not utterly a single sound since he last talked when they had climbed back into the truck. It unnerved the guards a little, who did their utmost best to rattle and mock the boy to get a reaction out of him.

When they remembered Matthew was there, that is.

So quiet to the extent that even Alfred sometimes had a hard time remembering that his brother was sitting right next to him.

It was a defence mechanism that Matthew had discovered and used to his advantage when he had previously been bullied. Keeping quiet and ducking his head made him blend neatly into the background, invisible to all eyes most of the time. For what it was worth, Alfred was glad that the guards and the other solemn "guests" like them were mostly ignoring or forgetting about Matthew.

And the days went by without much trouble.

After they had gotten off the train and travelled further on by another truck, they finally arrived at their destination. Alfred must have fallen asleep because when the truck shuddered to a stop, he didn't realize that it had until Matthew prodded him awake.

" We're getting off," he whispered, shifting Kumajirou to the side so he could ease himself off the hard seating. With a yawn, Alfred regretfully left his warm spot on the truck and out into the cold air.

Once outside, he stared upon a rather doleful looking building that seemed to stretch on for miles. There were guards patrolling around barbed fences, whose misted breath was seen and their hardened, ghastly faces blurring into the morning haze that descended over them. The grisly spikes appeared like gnarly, dangling fingers reaching out to get them.

Involuntarily shivering, Matthew inched closer to Alfred, who complied, gripping his brother's hand, trying to stand tall and appear as brave as he seemed.

After a brief conversation with the security guard in front of the gates, the rest of the guards hurriedly shoved them inside. Alfred almost wanted to grab Matthew and sprint for it before the twined gates closed, but there were guards with guns outside, waiting to shoot any who tried to leave. As the gates creaked shut with a resounding clang, echoing darkly in the empty grounds, he gloomily gave up his brilliant plan.

A man came sweeping down from the stairs, all smiles and good cheer. He spoke in smooth, flowing German to the guards that it made Alfred's head spin. The sight of his long white lab coat made him wonder if this was the "Doctor" that the guard had mentioned earlier.

That's when he turned his sights to the three set of twins.

If possible, his smile widened further. He began speaking to them cheerfully in German, presumably asking them how they are and what are their names. The two other twins answered his questions quietly and quickly as to not draw further attention to themselves. Matthew and Alfred both silently came to the same decision to say nothing at all.

The man tilted his head curiously at them. He spoke kindly to them, even patting both of them on the head as if trying to comfort them. Alfred clenched his jaw tighter and Matthew shuddered under his touch.

He frowned, asking something to the guard who brought them here. The guard replied and the bright smile instantly returned to his face at a sickening speed. " You speak English?" he asked with an accent, his words just as refined and fluent.

Surprised to hear the language that they hadn't spoken in a while, Matthew almost opened his mouth to answer, but Alfred nudged him hard enough to silence him. To Alfred's annoyance, the man managed to see his reaction, though he continued to smile as if it didn't happen.

" Ahh, you must be from Britain," he smiled, speaking easily to the language their father had taught them since they were young. " No need to be afraid, my two little ones. We are all friends here."

A pale finger jerked Matthew's chin upwards and straight at him. The supposedly friendly action made Matthew stiffen in fear. Alfred could feel the clammy sweat on Matthew's hand as he struggled not to launch himself at the man and beat him senseless for touching his brother.

Then, he realized why the man was so intently curious about Matthew. He lifted Matthew's chin so he could precisely get a better look at his eyes. Matthew's purple eyes that sparkled and glowed like the darkening of a sunset.

It was without a doubt that Matthew's eyes were special. There was no one else who had their color, not even a hint of amethyst in their eyes. Their mother once said that Matthew's eyes were like the gems of the ocean, a treasure for the one who had them. Others said that those eyes belonged to a freak, an abomination, leaving him prone to mockery and taunts of bullies.

Curious as ever, Matthew had asked him what an abomination was. Alfred refused to answer, only saying that the people who said that are the real abominations.

And now, this madman took an interest to them.

Without thinking, without any sort of plan, Alfred pushed Matthew behind him. Though to the eyes of everyone watching, it merely looked like he had shoved his brother aside for taking the attention away from him. " You're a funny man!" he giggled childishly. " How come you're wearing a white coat? Maybe you're a scientist. Are you a scientist?"

His rapid questions made the man chuckle. He ruffled Alfred's hair affectionately, who silently breathed in relief that Matthew had been forgotten once again in the background. " So many questions for one so young," he beamed, as if proud. He then addressed the other twins as well, switching easily back and forth from German and English. " You all may call me Uncle Mengele. Even Doctor Mengele if you'd like."

Heartily, he clapped his hands together as if they were his students and he their teacher. " You will all be given a specific number before being assigned to your rooms. You will have three meals a day. For one hour in the afternoon, you will be allowed to come outside and play in the soccer fields over there." He waved a careless hand behind him. " Other than that, you must remain in your rooms at all times.Do you understand?"

With his hands folded behind his back, he waited patiently as if waiting for them to answer. Not wishing to incur his wrath, they quickly gave a scattered murmur of consent, trying to avoid his gaze.

Pleased, the doctor pulled out from his pockets a handful of candies and gave them to the delighted children, though Alfred and Matthew only took one piece each. " Now go on. There is no point in tarrying here." He shooed them in almost playfully and gave Alfred one final pat on the head.

The twin girls looked a little more relaxed and the other twin boys chewed their candy happily. Matthew's fingers brushed against Alfred's wrist, silently thanking him for earlier. He merely gave a thumbs up and a smile in return.

They hurried into the main hall, where a nurse was already waiting for them. " Come this way, children," she kindly said. " You are going to be assigned your numbers here."

" How will we remember our numbers?" one of the boys asked cautiously.

" Because we aren't too good with numbers," his twin finished for him.

" You won't have to worry about memorizing these numbers," she told them laughingly.

Smiling a smile that did not reach her eyes, the nurse beckoned them to her office, where a few more nurses were preparing the necessary equipment. Once the children caught a glimpse of the needles laying patiently (and quite horrifyingly) for them, they naturally panicked and tried to run for the exit.

Before any of them could escape, the guards had already looped around them, dragging them to the nurses, forcing them into chairs. Their cries of pleas were unheard.

From his uncomfortable seat where a guard had forced him into, Matthew saw the needle coming closer and struggled to get away, tears forming in his eyes, a dying sob in his throat. Alfred tried to fight off the guard holding him back but his grip was too strong and another needle was already approaching his own arm.

A sharp jab dug into his skin and Alfred bit back a muffle of pain. Somewhere in front of him, he could hear Matthew's whimpers. The pain persisted, jabbing here and there along his whole wrist and down his arm, as a burning fire coursed through his veins, searing into his flesh and making its mark. Closing his eyes, Alfred gritted his teeth and quickly counted to take his mind off the pain.

_... forty-nine ... fifty ... fifty-one ... fifty-two ..._

Then, the needle withdrew from his left arm for the last time. Blinking back tears, he glanced down and could see the black, murky numbers tattooed like ghostly figures onto his skin. From the other side, the nurse had finished with Matthew as well and he could see that a set of numbers was also branded on Matthew's right arm.

" All done," she pleasantly said. " That wasn't too bad, was it?"

It took Alfred a considerable amount of willpower to not slap that silly smile off her face. He said nothing as he and the other sniffing children were hurried back into the main hall, rubbing their sore wrist. Almost immediately, he slid next to Matthew, whose tears continued to trickle down his cheeks silently. His hand took Matthew's in the little assurance he had to offer.

They began walking down another hallway, void of any furnishings or windows, only hundreds of lonely ashen-grey metal doors. One of the guards grunted something, taking out a pair of keys and unlocking one of the doors. Once it was opened, he carelessly shoved the nervous twin boys in. Before the door could fully close, Alfred caught a glimpse of a mop of brown hair and scared eyes from inside.

Another child just like them.

Inwardly seething at why Mengele would keep such small children here, Alfred barely had time to try to figure it out before the guards barked out and irritably gestured them to get inside another room chosen for them. He, Matthew and the twin girls scrambled in, just as the door slammed shut.

Two boys with messy red hair, also twins, both jumped up to their feet at the same time as soon as the door opened. A little girl near the window sat up straight and almost ran towards the door in ecstasy. Only to see them and quietly returned to her spot in dismay.

For one long minute, Alfred, Matthew and the twin girls stared silently at the twin boys who remained standing, not knowing what to say.

Finally, Alfred made the first move. " Hi there," he said awkwardly, not sure whether he should speak in English, French or German and ultimately settling with English. He was most comfortable with that language after all.

Smiling in return, one of the boys raised a slim hand returned the greeting. " You come from England?" he asked, also in English with a pronounced accent.

" No, we come from France. Our father was from England," he explained. Matthew gripped his arm, his eyes shooting him a warning not to say too much to these strangers who they didn't know yet.

The one closest to them chuckled, seeing Matthew's reaction. " We aren't gonna bite. We're all in the same boat anyways."

" What boat is that?" one of the twin girls demanded, the one with pigtails. Despite her stumbling English, the sharp tone in her voice carried out her suspicion.

" This place," the other boy shrugged. " A-A-us-Ausst-Auschat ... whatever they call this place."

" Auschwitz?"

" Yeah. That place."

Auschwitz. The name that made their mother freeze in fear. If the name alone was bad enough to make their mother, a strong and determined woman, to be frightened, who knows what horrors awaited them since they were trapped here?

" Why are we here then?" Alfred asked, hoping that the terror in his voice was masked.

" No clue," they promptly replied.

With an exasperated sigh, the pigtailed girl scrutinized the room. It was small, crammed with four beds big enough to fit one twin pair each. A tiny bathroom with a toilet and a sink was squeezed near the only door. There was no decorations or any other furniture. Only one window with steel bars sealing the length of it. " This is a prison," she sniffed.

" It may be, but we get treated pretty good if you behave."

" What happens if you don't behave?" the girl frowned, a hint of uneasiness in her otherwise frosty demeanour.

One boy scuffed the bottom of his shoe, glancing awkwardly at his brother. His brother was the one to reply.

" Then you get taken away," he gravely answered. " And you never come back."

~.~.~

**Author's Notes:**

Josef Mengele was a doctor at the Auschwitz concentration camp. He had a particular interest in twins and people with physical abnormalities, such as dwarfism. Despite performing many horrifying experiments on people, he treated his subjects fairly well, feeding and housing them better than others. When visiting the children, he asked them to call him "Uncle Mengele" and offered them candy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of its characters.

* * *

It was strange, trying to get used to the new schedule and rules that Mengele and the guards had set for them.

As Mengele had told them the first day, they were given three meals a day and only allowed out once a day. It was hard, when Alfred and Matthew had been used to doing and eating wherever and whenever they wanted.

Even when they got the chance to go outside, they were being watched by the guards. And if they took the chance to carefully look around the playground, they would see that there were cameras with their lens focused on them, taking in their every movement.

The two red-haired twins, having been here the longest time, knew many of other children and knew just who to talk to in order to glean scrapes of information. Not to mention that they knew how to speak English and German and even the language that the people of Roma spoke. What country that was from, Alfred wasn't too sure. He was pretty sure that he didn't come across that country before in his books from school.

And from what they told Alfred, the little girl with them Adeline, barely five years old, was also Roma. Which was why she viewed the rest of them in suspicion. She spoke very little and only to Luca, the older, more passive twin than his brother Thomas, if she did. Alfred would find out later why she ran to the door in joy before returning to her seat by the window in disappointment.

" Her sister was taken a few days ago," Luca murmured when they were well out of Adeline's earshot. " Every day whenever they open the door, she thinks they're bringing her back."

" I shouldn't have told her that we came back before." Thomas sheepishly scratched his head.

" You came back? From seeing Mengele?" Alfred exclaimed in wonder and Matthew perked up from where he was quietly playing with Kumajirou.

" Yep. One of the few to do it," Thomas proudly said, puffing out his chest. " We fought against the guards and they weren't able to hold us down and they had to bring us back here."

" Wow! So cool!"

Luca rolled his eyes. " That didn't happen, Alfred. He's making things up. The first time they were testing something in our eyes and Thomas was lucky to recover but not so much with me." He indicated his one eye that was a murky brown, contrasting his fair green one. " The second time was when they used needles on us."

He held out his arm where they could see little puncture marks, some still red and bruised. Thomas shuddered. " We got really sick and my head hurt really bad and my insides were on fire."

" We couldn't get up for days," Luca softly added.

And that was all they would say about that subject, leaving Alfred and Matthew to wonder what else the other twins in this place had to endure.

During their outside breaks, Alfred and Matthew mostly sat out of the way, sometimes kicking a soccer ball. Majority of the rest of the children spoke German, Polish and other languages that they didn't understand. Which was why they left the job to Thomas and Luca.

" So far your group was the last group brought in," Thomas informed them one afternoon, sprawled on his stomach on his bed, feet kicked up in the air. " Before there used to be so many groups coming in everyday that we had to fit fourteen kids in one room. Now it's been two weeks since you came and no one new showed up."

" And more kids are being sent to the Doctor," Luca sighed. " I found out today that Harman, Rhea, Therese, Karl and Celina were taken earlier in the morning."

Matthew gave an odd jerk, his bottom lip trembling. He quickly ducked his head so the others wouldn't see. Alfred knew why. For the past few days, he had made friends with Karl and they would play catch with a small ball or play with Kumajirou in the playground. Despite not knowing the same language, they got along fairly well, using hand signals, nods and smiles.

Reaching out, Alfred wrapped a comforting arm around Matthew's shoulders and he slowly fell back into his arms, struggling not to cry at another loss.

" So it's a matter of time before we get taken too?" Levia, the sharp-tongued twin of the two girls, scathingly asked. As usual, her sister Zivia, who didn't speak English, swiveled her gaze from her sister to the rest of them in confusion.

" We're just reporting stuff as it is," Thomas irritably retorted.

" They're just doing their job," Alfred also added, itching to be part of the conversation. " No need to get angry at them."

" Like you get to speak," she snapped. " You don't do anything useful."

" Hey! I do useful things! I made the bed today! All by myself!"

" Liar! Your brother did most of the work!"

" Well, I supervised!"

" Stop it, both of you. You're acting like two kids."

" In case you haven't noticed, we **are** kids!"

" Yeah? Well – well, you're being a bossy know-it-all!"

" Alfred ... that's not helping."

" So? You're an idiotic hero-wannabe!"

" You did **not** just call me that! This means war!"

A jingle of keys rattled outside their door, interrupting their argument and all seven of them stared at the door and back at each other. Despite being bloated with anger and glaring heatedly at each other, Alfred and Levia both came to the acknowledgment that they could continue their argument some time later. Then, they hastily scrambled to the front of their beds like little soldiers standing on guard.

Matthew came up next to his brother, biting his bottom lip. His hands shook as he clutched onto Kumajirou. _Are they going to take us away too? Like Karl? _he silently asked.

Trying not to betray any fear in his face, Alfred took Matthew's hand and smiled as wide as he could. " Of course not," he said out loud, loud enough for the others to hear him as well. " They're probably they're just giving us an early dinner. Or maybe they're letting us go outside again since we've been good," he brightly suggested.

All at once, Matthew released the breath he was holding, his faith and confidence in his older brother never wavering. The other five children had varying reactions. Zivia blinked in confusion at Alfred's words, not understanding, while Levia glowered at Alfred as if telling him that giving Matthew false hope was a bad idea. Thomas looked like he wanted to say something, but chose to mutter under his breath, while Luca fidgeted uncomfortably. Adeline's face was frightfully emotionless and her eyes lifeless. She didn't even tried to hurry to the door to see if it was her sister anymore.

One by one, the guards filed in. One of them grunted out a series of numbers in German, irritably tapping his pen on the clipboard.

A gasp from Zivia escaped past her lips as she gripped her sister's wrist tightly.

Impatiently, the guard repeated the number and more German words. When no one said anything (or in Alfred and Matthew's case, they didn't understand him), he angrily banged his fist against the door, making them all collectively flinch. " _Antworte mir_!" he snapped.

Tears blossomed in Zivia's eyes as she fought not to cry. Alfred glanced at Levia, her face paler than paper. However, her eyes hardened and she stepped forward.

" _Ja_?" she coldly said.

Not missing a beat, the guard snatched her wrist and peered at the numbers imprinted there, ignoring her hiss of pain. When he was finished, he growled in annoyance and shoved Levia away. She fell to the floor, a crumpled heap.

" _Schwester_!" Zivia cried, rushing to Levia's side, only to be stopped by the guard. He checked her wrist too, gripping it tight against her protests. Then with a smirk of satisfaction, he shouted something to his partner, who hefted up his gun and pointed it at them, all of them freezing in their tracks from trying to reach the moaning Levia and the shrieking Zivia.

" _Nicht bewegen_," he said in a bored tone, though his gun never left their faces. And Alfred didn't need to know German to know that the guards didn't want them anywhere near the girls.

Sluggishly, Levia tried to stand, only to be kicked down by the guard heaving her sister over his burly shoulder, who was hysterically crying for her, while Alfred and the others could only helplessly watch.

" _Du versprechen_!" the normally reserved Zivia screamed. Her hysterical eyes snapped from her sister. " _Du versprechen_!"

Her cries were enough to revive Levia, who then shook off her dizziness and charged recklessly, howling something at the guards who easily knocked her down, bringing one of their gun down on her head.

Zivia's screams were violently cut off as the door slammed shut, leaving a semi-conscious Levia on the other side.

~.~.~

The next day, Levia prowled like a restless lioness in their room, feverishly glaring at the metal door as if it was the one who carried her sister away.

She ate nothing, leaving her meals untouched, no matter how hard Thomas and Alfred tried to coax her. Even when both Matthew and Luca adopted a puppy eye look to plead with her, she refused to budge. The guards said nothing when they retrieved their trays, even stealing the bread from Levia's plate when they thought no one was looking.

Even when they were allowed to go outside, she remained where she was, a dark figure on her bed, scowling at anyone who tried to make her do different.

But as the days crawled by, Zivia did not return. Her predicament was much like Adeline's sister. And they all feared and knew the worst had happened, though none of them dared voice their opinion to Levia.

In some ways, Zivia connected to little Adeline more than any of them during that time. They saw her sitting next to Adeline often by the window, neither of them saying a word, just watching outside. Now both of them shared the loss of a sister, doomed to never return.

Alfred approached her, even after failed attempts from Thomas and Luca. " I'm sorry," he said, looking everywhere but at her pale cheeks and thinning frame.

She barely reacted. " For what?" she wearily asked.

It felt strange to him talking to Levia who didn't try to bite his head off. " About Zivia," he uncomfortably said. " I mean, you did your best, you know, and I'm sure she knew too."

" You don't speak German, do you?" she suddenly asked.

He blinked owlishly. " Well – not that really – I mean I did learn a bit at school ... "

" _Du versprechen. _It means_ "_you promised".That was the last thing she said to me." Levia's shoulders slumped heavily, her gaze somber as she gazed at him. " How does it feel to know that those were the last words your sister said to you? As she was being dragged away and you couldn't stop it?"

It would kill him. If Matthew told him that, it would have broke his heart and shattered whatever was keeping him from going insane in this place.

He wasn't able to return an answer when they heard a grumble and a familiar jingle of keys outside. Silently, they remained where they were as two guards entered, carrying trays of food.

Levia stood up from her seat, with an odd look in her eyes. Alfred could almost hear the gears clicking in her head, as she watched the guards with a fixed, almost maniacal expression placing their food down like an animal about to pounce on its prey.

" H-hey, what are you doing?" he nervously hissed from the corner of his mouth. " Don't do anything stupid."

Levia smiled. It was the first time he had ever seen her do so. " Of course not," she sweetly whispered back. " That is _**your**_ job."

Before he could retort, she skipped towards the guards, whistling a merry tune. They all stared dumbstruck at her. " _Was denkst du_?" one of the guards warily asked at her.

She then spat in his face. With a howl of disgust, the guard jerked back. He snarled something, slapping Levia as he did, while the other guard guffawed in amusement.

" _Du Hündin_!" he growled, grabbing her wrist, gripping it so tight Alfred thought it was a marvel her wrist didn't snap. With a stream of more spitting words (that he assumed were curses and swear words), the guard shoved Levia out the door and leaving them once again helpless to stop them.

Nevertheless, just as Levia was marched out the door, Alfred could see she was smiling in victory.

~.~.~

For the rest of the day, all the occupants of the room were eerily quiet and barely said anything. Even when the guards brought dinner for them, Alfred only played restlessly with his food, unable to stop the squirming feeling rolling uncomfortably in his stomach.

Levia's departure left a sour taste in their mouths and their moods were dampened as an aftereffect.

That night they gathered together. They invited Adeline too, but she gazed dully at them and didn't move from her spot, so they simply let her be. Huddled closely on Thomas and Luca's bed, with the blanket draped over their heads, they squeezed as close as they could, the bed creaking in discomfort.

" Why did she do that?" Thomas hissed. " Had she lost her mind?"

" She just wanted to find Zivia," Alfred argued.

Luca shook his head. " You saw what she did. They'll punish her."

A grim silence followed after his words. Until Matthew spoke up.

" Would she find Zivia?" he asked, making all of them start in surprise, including Alfred, who had forgotten that Matthew was there in the first place.

Toying with a hole in the blanket, Luca chewed his lip. Alfred was amazed how that little action duplicated their mother's own actions whenever she was hesitating to tell them something. " I'm not sure Matthew," he gently answered. Despite being only two years Alfred and Matthew's senior, Luca looked oddly old and adult-like under the moonlight.

" What Levia did was brave." Thomas rubbed the back of his head, his hair flying messily. " But it was also stupid."

" Brave but stupid," Luca echoed.

But what Levia did and her maniacally unreasonable behavior Alfred could understand. After all, if he was in her place and Matthew was taken away, he would have acted the same way. He knew the uncontrollable, seething rage that coursed through her veins, setting her in a path that recklessly and needlessly endangered her safety despite Thomas and Luca's warnings.

The footsteps of the guards vibrated softly outside and they quickly scrambled back to their respectable beds with baited breaths that they were not caught for talking after hours.

Within minutes, the guards continued to walk by their room and they silently released a sigh of relief. But Matthew and Luca simultaneously yawned and they all agreed that it was getting late and that they would talk again in the morning.

Alfred and Matthew sneaked back to their bed, as Thomas flopped onto his pillow and fell asleep in moments, followed by Luca's soft snores.

But Alfred couldn't fall asleep as easy. He kept replaying the scene where Levia was taken away and a cold hand took his heart. The Doctor and his guards were closing in on them and more and more children were being taken away, never to be seen again. It was only a matter of days (or maybe less) before it would be their turn.

Fingers trembling, he reached into his shirt and clutched his father's tag for comfort. Its coldness was a sharp reminder that he and Matthew were quite alone in the world.

" What's that?"

He started, looking up to see Matthew (who he had forgotten was lying quietly in the bed beside him) pointing to the now revealed tag. It was the first time Matthew had vocally asked him about it.

For a split second, Alfred wanted to tell him it was nothing and he should just go back to sleep. But there had been too many secrets between them and their mother that had eventually tore their family apart. He couldn't bear it if the same thing happened to him and Matthew.

" It belonged to Dad," he whispered, bringing the tag entirely out and showing it to Matthew. " Mum threw it away and I picked it up from the garbage."

Ghostly fingers traced the lettering of the tag, spelling out their father's name. " Why did she throw it away?"

He bit his lip, hesitating. " I think she didn't like it."

Matthew wisely didn't probe any further. A tiny smile graced his features as he whispered their father's name, just loud enough for Alfred to hear. He quickly blinked to remove any traces of unshed tears. " I miss him," he simply said.

Feeling his throat dry up, Alfred scooted closer to Matthew, their foreheads touching.

" Me too."

~.~.~.~

**Author's Notes:**

_Antworte mir_ (German) – Answer me

_Ja _(German) – Yes

_Schwester _(German) – Sister

_Nicht bewegen _(German) – Don't move

_Du versprechen_ (German) – You promised

_Was denkst du_ (German) – What are you doing

_Du Hündin_ (German) – You bitch

My apologies if I didn't do the translations right. I'm not too familiar with German and if anyone could clear things up with me, I would appreciate it.

Levia, which is a Hebrew name, means "lioness", which I think suits her personality. Particularly her protectiveness over her sister Zivia.

**Edited:** Many thanks to **bbissocute** for the German corrections!


End file.
